Robin finds a range and promptly makes use of it after a prolonged time at sea.

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Built into the cliffs overlooking the Suvan Sea, Riverfall resides on the edge of grasslands of Cyphrus where the Bluevein River plunges off the plain and cascades down to the inland sea below. Home of the Akalak, Riverfall is a self-supporting city populated by devoted warriors. [Riverfall Codex]

He was glad to have found this place, this ‘Stained Pelt’, though he did muse the name would fit right in as a tavern in Sunberth. Of course, it wasn’t a tavern but it was even better; it catered to archers and hunters, it dealt in the trade of pelts, the sale of trapping and skinning gear yet more importantly it dealt in the trade of bows.

While the scrolls provided by the greeter at the docks, this place was in the center of his interests once he had time to actually examine it thoroughly. Granted, he may have better priorities but he needed this. After days upon days lingering on a ship he needed to get his bow arm into practice again.

Even with the knowledge of its location he had nearly walked passed it, in fact he did walk past until he realized there was something odd about the small hillside he just passed. As if the city had the desire to constantly surprise him, he was amused to see that the small hill was actually a hovel built into.

When he entered he was immediately struck by the smell of leather, of pelts, of the skins of animals being turned to something more useful. Alongside it was the smell of bows, of various glues being used to turn a collection of wood into a formidable piece and the carving of formidable projectiles that could be fired from the aforementioned bow.

It didn’t smell like home, but it was reassuring.

As he went down the steps, he was amused to see that the roof was shorter than expected. In a city where tall, multi-colored, people reign supreme it must be awkward to have to parous the place while your head grinded against the ceiling. After satisfying the child inside him he approached the Akalak manning the establishment, asking for use of the range mentioned in the business scroll.

He had the option for a day of use to an entire seasons. It was inexpensive whichever way he took it and he imagined himself requiring frequent use of the range he wasn’t certain if he’d pay the seasonal fee. On one end, long term it was actually cheaper than the per day fee but on the other and depending how things goes he may not need to waste the money.

Ultimately, he decided it was better to try first than decide. Ruffling through his money pouch he pulled out 3 pieces of silver rimmed mizas-3 SM and gently handed it to the Akalak then made his own way out and made a turn around the hovel venturing a guess that the range was there.

He saw a number of the traditional straw targets, and another one that was shaped like a man though seemingly a bit bigger although it was probably just his eyes after having so many Akalaks, and a thick wooden post. He made to reach for the thin if haphazard looking and seemingly bent in multiple places limb, unstrung for its own security, and began to the tedious effort of bending the limbs and stringing the bow again. It took the better of a chime to get it down, normally it would have taken half that but days upon days on a ship with nothing to shoot meant he’d no choice but to be rusty.

Following that he made sure his glove and bracer were secured correctly, getting burn lines from the bow snap was not high on his list of things to re-experience. He then moved towards one of the straw targets

They were simple looking things, so simple that they were merely straw bound together and circled around over each other to create a spiral pattern. Part of him wished there were colored rings decorating it to emphasis the value of the target placing, but he was being nitpicky since it all amounted to the same thing from an individual use.

He set himself at 30 feet, practically point blank range for a composite longbow and more so since the breeze was too light to affect the short distance. But for someone who was out of practice it was the perfect starting point to get rid of the kinks.

His goal was a simple one, to practice until his arm was sore and to get as many arrows to the center as he could. Spreading his legs apart and holding the bow with his left in alignment to his body, he drew an arrow from the quiver on his back as he aligned his eyes with the target, knocking arrow to string as he pulled back till it reached just past his ears laying the burden on his back and shoulder muscles.

He held his breath for but a few moments, then let go.

Last edited by Robinson Gilli on June 11th, 2017, 7:02 pm, edited 1 time in total.

The projectile flew through the air and less than a second, perhaps even less than half, had struck the straw target on one of the distant outer wings from the upper-right corner. It was… disheartening.

‘ Shoulda at leas’ got on the inner ones’ If his da were here with him his hide would be tanned at such a shoddy display. But then he sighed and reasoned himself ‘[/i] Well whacha expectin’ from lazin’ on a ship for who knows what? Ain’t like Da woulda done any better, ya?[/i]’ Satsified with his own self-justification he made for another arrow, repeated the motion, took a breath.

He stilled himself, trying to get clear distance of it and to center his aim, but the prolonged pull of the string tired his fingers quick as involuntarily let go. The string struck his bracer loudly and he involuntarily winced imagining just how red his skin would have been without the handy leather piece.

The arrow as a result was off-shot as the metal-tipped projectile’s shaft grazed the edge of the target and prudently and inconveniently went out of sight.

“Oh petch me sideways an’ call me Hilda” He muttered. That wasn’t a good shot, not at all. It was like his first day handling a bow except he wasn’t even half prepared then like he was now. Good god he could still recall his Da’s outright bellows of laughter at him getting string burns or the time.

He wanted to shout in irritation, but he stifled that too. It brought him great ire to see that his aim to fall so horrendously low. Of course it was merely the fact the physical habit had fallen aloft, but it irked him nonetheless.

With a grunt of irritation, he resumed his stance, pulled out the third arrow and began pulling the string again just past his ear. ‘ Quiet yer mind, Gilli, Ain’t a point in shootin’ mad Da said. An’ while Da says lots o’ things this is one o’ the right ones’ Came the thought with a deep breath as he adjusted his own sight again.

This time he didn’t take long, old bits of physical memory asserting themselves finally, as he let go of the string and in the scant second watched the arrow fly and strike a circle closer to the center. He grunted with satisfaction at that. It would take him a while indeed, but he would get there.

It had taken time, indeed it had. His shoulder and back ached with the repetitive motion but it was well worth. Since his first three shots he had gone through his remaining arrows at a quick rate. The results were…… mediocre.

Of the 17 arrows only half had struck the inner circle and of those only half had gone near center. It was encouraging in the sense that he was truly getting the hang of it again ‘ Ay, da canna do better than that.’ Indeed, despite his old man being the teacher to his skills he could confidently say he was better than him.

He frowned again, his thoughts now turning to his da and ma. Last he recalled they were doin’ alright. Granted its been many days since but they both had the uncanny fortune of survivin’ long as they did to raise even him.

He was homesick he had to admit, he honestly missed the decrepit old buildings, the sight of gangers and folk constantly tryin’ to screw the other of mizas, the sheer opportunity of fightin’ folk an’ not havin’ ta worry too much about who’s in the wrong ‘ Not like I did any o’ that’ Or rather, he never hurt people that didn’t deserve it.

He may have not have had many morals, but he did have enough that mattered to him on principal decency. Of course then his mind went onto the things that while he did not miss, were at least familiar. He did not miss the sight of beggars for one, but its lack of it was… unnerving.

As he approached the target, he made sure to grab the arrow shafts closer to the head, giving a firm twist and pull as to not accidently break off the arrow heads, made easier as it was straw and not wood that he had to contend with. If it were the latter he may had also had to deal with a dull arrow head and while it wouldn’t have cost much to replace he’d rather be able to re-use what he had.

As he collected them, his mind fell on to darker thoughts. Sunberth…. His old home had always been a mess, but as long as one could navigate the cracks they were fine. Unfortunately, whatever he had done to incur a bounty those years back never went away hence as to why he was here.

‘ Hope ma an’ da are safe’ Of course, it being Sunberth it was never a guarantee. Nonetheless he repeated what he told himself not long ago. They lived long enough to raise him after all, they’ll live long enough the spite the city by dying of age.

Having gathered all the arrows that didn’t miss, he went for the one flew past. It was a bit of a walk, but a short one as he retrieved the wayward projectile and inspected the arrow head for any dents before sliding it into the quiver. He took a breath and walked back, readying himself for his second bout of archery.

When he returned to the target he was using, he increased his distance to 50 feet. It was almost double of the original distance, but it was still well within range and he wasn’t going to get any better by just repeating the same distance. Good for a refresher, but not for further development if he wished it. As if the winds were sensing this need for challenge, it seemed to pick up enough that had to worry about the outside force disturbing the trajectory of his shots.

He mumbled off some obscenity as he reached for an arrow, lining himself up as he always did. With a long bow he had quite a lot of distance to cover and it didn’t make sense for him to cover only short bits. Granted, somethin’ like a short bow or even a cross bow would have been more useful in cities, but he still liked the idea he had the distance over all of ‘em especially with this bow.

With the target not lookin’ as big it did earlier he needed to make his shots count more, even more so with the wind he was gettin’. On a related bit he also needed to shoot faster, taking his sweet time in training was one thing but it was a whole ‘nother thing in battle.

Every tick counted, every tick less counted even more. If he couldn’t get his shots off fast than it was him falling fast an’ dying. With a breath he pulled knocked the bow and pulled the string, his mind taking in the wind as it hit from his right. ‘A nudge, nudge or two?’ He questioned himself as he adjusted his posture, raising the bow not only slight but minutely shifted his aim.

Then, he let go of the string and with a thwack it struck his bracer as the arrow flew in the air. From this distance the wind strength shouldn’t have affected it much unless it was severely strong to divert a shot from a longbow. Yet still it was affected as the current struck the side and ever so slightly divereted its course.

If he had it right, it should have struck closer to the center ring and after less than a tick passedhe heard the thud of arrow against straw. From his view it had struck closer, just not as close as he hoped as the arrow had lodged itself between two of the inner rings surrounding the center.

‘Better than I was thinkin’ at least’’ He grudgingly admitted, pulling out another arrow and readying himself to make another shot. His thoughts now involuntarily going over Riverfall for now, at least over some facts he vaguely understood.

He couldn’t bother women and kids, that bit was alright with him. Sure he was a Sunberth layabout but he was one with standards damn it! An’ he was never good at stealing there was another. But what he wasn’t sure about was stayin’ friendly. What if it was somethin’ he really found nasty, eh? He supposed if something bad happened they could always take out in that Gidywhat something arena. Still sl sounded much simpler to just gut the bastard and walk off.

He wasn’t really sure what he was going to do about following them, but he had to. With a mental sigh and another bit of calculation, he let loose another. With another near tick passing, it thudded into the straw a bit closer this time, though it angled oddly.

Decidin’ to worry about that later he pulled out another arrow quickly, he hastened his practiced movements as he knocked the arrow and pulled the string then finally let go and watched the arrow fly. This time it went a bit farther, on the second inner circle yet near to the first outer one.

He grunted a tad bit of annoyance as he pulled out another arrow, knocking it again and pulling back with his shoulder back. Workin’ fast to get that shot in his head then let go, watchin’ it fly and strike the target. It was closer now, but still no good in his mind as he pulled another.

His shoulder ached from the movement, but he wasn’t exhausted an’ it wasn’t screamin’ at him. He could still go on, long as he’s breathin’ he’ll handle his training and this city. Jus’ gotta see the cracks and learn how to walk by them.

With that, he pulled out another arrow, knocked it, pulled the string and…. Fired.

Lores:Location: Stained PeltSelf: HomesickShort bows: More useful in citiesSunberth: Not so safe

Penalties:Please subtract three silver miza from your ledger.

Grader's Comment:Please make sure to delete your post in the request thread. If there is any issue with the grade,be sure to drop to my graveyard and bury me a pm. Remember to enjoy your grades while you can, they are to die for.

As always, Death guide you~Grim

Grim as an Eiyon, appears to undead as either something to be fearful, or weary of, depending on their personal power. To others, he might seem like a mystery, or just odd.